


Three Things I Need to Say

by DubiousSparrow



Category: Dreamer Trilogy - Maggie Stiefvater, Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, CDTH spoilers, Canon Divergence, Happy Endings Are Relative Until the 2nd Book Comes Out Though, I needed a little closure, Lindenmere (Dreamer Trilogy), M/M, POV Alternating, Spoilers, The Texts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:33:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26939683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DubiousSparrow/pseuds/DubiousSparrow
Summary: Adam finally sees Ronan’s texts.Canon divergent but includes CDTH SPOILERS.A more descriptive summary is in the author note at the beginning (spoilers ahoy... you have been warned).
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 48
Kudos: 115





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a canon-divergent take on Ronan’s texts to Adam before he and Hennessy disappear with Bryde. In CDTH, Maggie describes Ronan’s texts as being about Bryde, and then the heartbreaking “Tamquam.” I change the nature of Ronan’s texts in this fic, and it follows Adam as he tries to make sense of things.
> 
> I had this very particular idea that I wanted to flesh out, and so here it is in its... uh... fleshiness? I can't promise that I'll be writing beyond this point. 
> 
> UPDATE: Yeah, this took over my brain. Who couldn't see that coming?? I initially said no closure. BUT NOW I NEED CLOSURE! At least in terms of reuniting Adam and Ronan. I’m not even going to attempt to go beyond that. 
> 
> It’s been a bit since I read _Call Down the Hawk_ , so if I've changed some details, please just picture me channeling Michael Scott in _The Office_ screaming “I DECLARE BANKRUPTCY!” but it’s a tiny, grumpy bird screaming “I DECLARE CANON DIVERGENCE!”
> 
> There’s a good bit of Latin in this story, so I’ll be including the translation within the text for the most part to maintain the flow. And as I do not speak Latin, if you see mistakes there, please let me know – I’m just relying on google!

Adam pulled open the elevator grate and stepped out onto the main floor of Widener Library. He’d spent his shift in the basement stacks, re-shelving piles upon piles of history books.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and waited for it to come to life -- there was never any signal below ground. There were a few titles he wanted to flag for Gansey and he waited impatiently. His phone buzzed. He saw several missed texts from Ronan, and thumbed them open.

_Three things I need to say. It’s over. I met someone else. Don’t try to contact me._

Adam dropped his phone. The screen cracked on the marble floor.

This wasn’t happening. He couldn’t breathe. He stooped to the ground and grabbed his phone.

_Hundred reasons why, but they don’t matter._

No. No, this wasn’t right. This wasn’t possible.

_A fox in the henhouse, you once called me – we both knew I was only ever going to fuck this up._

What? What was he talking about? Was he drunk? He had to be drunk.

_Way to be an asshole, right?_

_I won’t be in touch again. For old time’s sake, though…_

_Tamquam._

Adam stared at the words and tried to make them make sense. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t Ronan. Not only would he never break up with Adam, he certainly wouldn’t do it over _text_. And it didn’t even sound like him.

Adam dialed Ronan’s number with shaking hands.

 _The number you have dialed has been_ _disconnected._

Adam growled under his breath. Something was seriously wrong. He dialed another number, and his call was answered immediately.

“Parrish?”

“Declan, where is he? Is he OK?”

“Parrish, I’m sorry, but whatever he told you, you need to respect that. You need to listen to him.”

Adam reeled in shock. Now he knew something was very, very wrong. There was no way in hell that Ronan would tell Declan he was breaking up with Adam before he told Adam himself. 

_And Ronan wouldn’t break up with him._

Adam didn’t know what to say. He tried to form words but they didn’t come.

“Adam? Look, I’m sorry. My brother was never gonna be good for you. I think you need to take his texts seriously. You need to think about exactly what he said.”

Adam felt dizzy, “I understand.”

He hung up the phone, and looked back down at the message.

Think, Parrish. Just slow down, breathe, and _think_.

He looked at the texts. It was odd for Ronan to break his message up the way he did. Ronan normally wrote in giant, unbroken blocks of run-on sentences. Each text an obscenity-laced monologue. These short, broken texts, though…

_Three things…_  
_Hundred reasons…_  
_A fox in the henhouse…_  
_Way to be an asshole…_

_Three Hundred Fox Way._

Adam strode through the front door of the Library, not bothering to tell his supervisor he was leaving.

**

Adam hadn’t even stopped to scry. He’d thrown on his leather jacket and helmet, and ran to the bike. He didn’t have time to borrow the gloves again – his hands would be chapped by the end of it, but he didn’t care. His thoughts spun out of control as he raced out of the city, and south towards Henrietta.

_Ronan was OK._

_He had to be OK. He had to be OK. He had to be OK._

Adam could not imagine a world without Ronan in it. He didn’t want to live in that world. Even at a distance, Ronan was still the heart and center of his life. Adam didn’t know who he was without Ronan, they were so inextricably linked – Greywaren and Magician, Lynch and Parrish, Ronan and Adam.

He took a deep breath, and pressed down hard on the gas.

**

Maura was waiting on the porch as he pulled to a stop in front of the sprawling, ramshackle house. He let the bike drop to the ground as he jumped from it and ran towards her.

She opened her arms and he fell into them. He felt tears in his eyes for the first time that night. The shock and the forward movement had kept him from breaking, but the warmth of Maura’s body enveloping him, and her familiar smell of tea leaves and rosemary shampoo brought him to the edge. That smell was the closest thing to maternal love that Adam’s heart recognized.

She pulled back and looked up at him, smoothing her rough palm over his cheek, “I don’t know what’s happening. I can’t see him. He’s close to a powerful energy source that’s hiding him.”

“What if we scry together? With both of us focusing…”

She shook her head, “It’s too big, whatever or whoever is with him. But there’s something I have to show you. Come inside.” She led him up the steps and into the kitchen. 

She picked up an envelope from the table and handed it to him, “This was in the mailbox. No stamp, so somebody put it there.”

Adam’s hands shook. It was addressed to Persephone Poldma. It was in Ronan’s angular, spikey handwriting. 

He ripped it open and pulled out a single piece of old parchment.

It was blank.

Adam squeezed his eyes shut and let his head drop, letting out a noise of frustration. 

What was Ronan trying to tell him? 

”Adam, open your eyes…. look,” Maura whispered.

Words were appearing on the paper, once again in Ronan’s handwriting.

_**Adam, if you’re reading this then they were right to let you into Harvard, you genius motherfucker.** _

Adam took a deep, shaking breath. _Ronan_. Writing continued to appear as if an invisible hand was at work.

_**I dreamed up this paper so we can talk. It will only show my messages if you’re physically touching it. And you can write back and I’ll see it. I’ll keep checking it.** _

_**Sorry about sending it to Persephone – you’re probably freaking out enough right now without me bringing her up, but I thought that would tip off the witches that it was really for you.** _

Adam noticed that the first lines had already disappeared, leaving no trace. God, Ronan was brilliant when he wanted to be.

_**I hope you didn’t believe those texts. I needed a way to get you down here without tipping off anybody who might be intercepting our calls or texts. Because if they know about me, then they know about you – or at least what you mean to me – and I wanted to at least TRY to get them off your ass. It probably didn’t work so you have to be careful. You need to stay out of sight.** _

_**Get somewhere safe. Somewhere nobody knows about.** _

_**Write back to me.** _

_**Tamquam.** _

Adam looked up at Maura, his eyes dry and focused, “I’m going after him.”

**

Adam steered the bike up the dark, winding mountain road, and ditched it behind a tree. He climbed the path into Lindenmere, feeling the energy of the forest building around him as he hiked deeper and deeper into the trees. Maura had said Ronan was hidden by something powerful. Adam would need Lindenmere’s power to help find him. He stopped at a stream, and settled himself on the moss-covered bank. 

He took the parchment out of his bag and smoothed it out on his thigh. He rummaged around in his bag for a pen, gritting his teeth. 

_Jesus, Parrish, could you not have made sure you had a pen to write back to your dreamer boyfriend on his magical paper BEFORE you drove miles outside of civilization?_

He sighed with relief as his fingers wrapped around an old, well-chewed pen hidden in an interior pocket.

What should he write? 

He started with the first thing that was bursting out of his heart.

_**Alter Idem.** _

Adam watched the words disappear into the parchment. He waited.

_**Fucking Christ, Parrish. You took your sweet goddamned time.** _

Adam grinned and touched the writing as it flowed across the paper, and then disappeared as quickly as it had come.

_**Listen, there are some seriously dangerous assholes hunting me, and they might be hunting you too. Tell me you’re somewhere safe.** _

Adam thought about how to respond. He wouldn’t lie.

_**I’m in Lindenmere. Maura told me she can’t find you because something powerful is blocking her. I’m going to ask Lindenmere to let me use its power to find you.** _

_**I’m coming after you.** _

Adam didn’t have long to wait before Ronan’s words appeared.

_**Adam, no! Do not come find me. I fucking mean it, Parrish. It isn’t safe. These assholes mean business – I don’t want you anywhere near them.** _

Adam clenched his jaw. He knew Ronan would respond this way. It didn’t change anything.

_**Maura couldn’t find me for a reason, Adam. Bryde is blocking all seers. It’s the only way we could truly hide. You won’t be able to find me. Don’t try. It’s too dangerous to scry. Look down at your fucking shoulder if you need a reminder of what happened last time.** _

Adam watched the words disappear and carefully wrote his response.

_**I figured you were with Bryde. I hope to god you’re right to trust him, Ronan. And I’m sorry, but if you won’t tell me where you are – and I know that you won’t - then I have to do this. Please understand. I’ll write back when I come out of it.** _

Adam didn’t wait for Ronan’s response. His eyes caught on the words “ _ **Adam please…**_ ” before he’d managed to fold the paper back up and slide it into his pocket. 

He steadied himself, and took a deep breath. He pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight, positioning it against a rock so the bright light reflected off the flowing water.

He unfocused his eyes and felt himself fall into a dreamscape.


	2. Chapter 2

Ronan gripped the blank page tightly in his fist.   
  
It had been too long since Adam’s last message. It had been minutes, it had been days, it had been years. Ronan’s mind couldn’t tell anymore.  
  
He waited. He counted to ten. To twenty. To one hundred.  
  
Nothing.  
  
He fought the urge to rip the paper to pieces, and instead crumpled it and threw it to the floor, rising from the desk chair to pace. He was in the manager’s office on the grounds of what had once been a sprawling country estate, and was now rented out for weddings and corporate retreats. It was one of Bryde’s safe houses. Certain doors had been unlocked, and alarms turned off by the dreamer daughter of the owner. She was part of Bryde’s network, the size and extent of which Ronan still didn’t have a handle on.  
  
The three fugitives had taken shelter that night in the largest building that housed an honest-to-god _ballroom_ and several offices.  
  
Ronan stared at the clock on the wall.   
12:34am  
  
Adam had been silent for seven minutes.  
  
The longest seven minutes of Ronan’s life.  
  
This was his fault. He never should have sent those stupid fucking texts. He should have just disappeared. Broken Adam’s heart until things were safe and he could come back and un-break it. He’d been weak. He couldn’t stomach the idea of Adam thinking he was dead, or worse, that he didn’t love him.   
  
He made up his mind. No, in actuality there was no decision to make. He grabbed his leather jacket, and shoved the crumpled piece of paper into his jeans pocket.   
  
**  
  
Ronan crept quietly into the ballroom, careful to keep his boots from echoing on the polished wood floor. Bryde lay stretched out on a pile of old seat cushions pilfered from a storage closet. Hennessy had taken first watch at the entrance gate to the property.  
  
( _It’s fine, gents, I’m not accustomed to shut-eye, am I.)_   
  
The hoverboard lay next to Bryde’s sleeping form. Ronan held his breath and placed his fingertips on the smooth, translucent dream material, gently floating it towards him.  
  
“Taking a midnight stroll?”  
  
_Fuck._  
  
Bryde’s eyes were open, his face was impassive.   
  
“I’m getting Adam.”  
  
Bryde shifted into a seated position and leaned against the wall.  
  
“Your first instinct is still to try to effect change in the physical world, when your power resides elsewhere.”  
  
“Well, my boyfriend is about to lose his fucking mind on the _goddamned astral plane_ , and if I don’t _physically_ wake him up, he’s fucked.”  
  
Bryde was silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on Ronan. Ronan felt _dissected_.  
  
“He must be awakened in the physical world, but you have other channels to do so.”  
  
Ronan growled in frustration, “Enough of this Mr. Miyagi bullshit.” He grabbed the hoverboard and stalked towards the door.  
  
“Your partner is not alone in your forest.”  
  
Ronan stopped.  
  
_Opal_.  
  
Sometimes Ronan wondered if he truly was the idiot Declan implied him to be.  
  
He shook his head, finding the problem, “It won’t work if she’s not asleep.”  
  
“Perhaps. Perhaps not.”  
  
“Has anyone ever told you what a fucking pain in the ass you are?”  
  
Something flashed in Bryde’s eyes, and Ronan took an involuntary step back before he knew what he was doing.  
  
“What about the energy you’re putting off? Will it get in the way?” Ronan carefully modulated his tone. He didn’t need to piss off the one person who might have a way for him to get to Adam.  
  
“That energy shields us from seers, not from our own dreams. Our creations are pieces of us – the energy does not sever your hand from your wrist.”  
  
Ronan nodded.  
  
Bryde continued, “Your dream child is connected to you whether she sleeps or not. You need to locate the thread that connects you.”  
  
Ronan turned back to the door, “Don’t wake me.”


	3. Chapter 3

Opal curled possessively around the delicate body of the fawn. He was new to Lindenmere. Not a dream thing. Not like Opal. Not like Chainsaw. (So much better than Chainsaw). Opal was halfway between sleep and waking when she felt a _pull_.

_Kerah!_

She felt the tug in her stomach. He was pulling from the dream side. Opal closed her eyes, and let the tidal rhythm of the fawn’s breaths carry her forward into the dream.

**

Ronan opened his eyes in Lindenmere. 

The energy that Bryde was sending out manifested as a dense fog saturating the forest. He could barely see two feet in front of him. Jesus Christ, how was Bryde producing this sort of energy? What sort of fucking nuclear reactor had he tied himself to? 

Ronan thought of Adam wandering in that fog. Staring into the emptiness of it, his mind barely tethered to his body. 

It was impenetrable. Even the sounds of the forest were silenced beneath its weight – the absence of birdsong eerie and alien. Ronan felt a cold wind blowing through him, but it too was silent. 

He would never find Adam in this, and Adam had no chance of finding him. They could be mere feet apart but unable to see or hear each other unless they physically collided out of sheer luck.

But he could feel Opal. 

He felt the thread that Bryde had described. How had he never noticed it before? All at once the realization hit him. He recognized the pull. 

He’d mistaken it for love. 

He recognized the physicality of it now. If he concentrated, he could trace a similar thread to Chainsaw flying somewhere high above him. He could feel Matthew far, far away. 

He felt Opal drawing closer. 

She was moving fast.

And suddenly she was there, wrapped around his legs and pushing her face into his stomach.

“Kerah!”

Ronan held her tightly to him. He’d blocked out the pain of leaving her, one heartbreak too many, but it welled up now and caught in his throat.

“Kid, I need your help,” he managed to choke out, “I need you to find Adam and wake him up.”

“ _Et in silva?_ ”

[He is in the forest?]

“Yes, he’s with you somewhere in Lindenmere, but I don’t know where. You need to find him and wake him up,” Ronan hesitated, “You might have to hurt him.”

“ _Ego potest non nocere eum!”_

[I cannot hurt him!]

“You have to wake him up. Do whatever you need to – it’s important Opal.”

Opal looked up at Ronan with wide eyes. She felt the fear in him, and nodded.

“When you wake him I want you to say these words,” Ronan knelt and whispered in her ear.

“Go. Now.”

**

Opal opened her eyes. She was on her back staring up at a clear, dark sky. The fawn grazed nearby.

She focused on the words Kerah had whispered and looked at the battered watch on her wrist. The words were important. They were important because they were for Adam.

Opal closed her eyes and listened to the wind whistle through the branches above her.

 _“Lindenmere…”_ she whispered, _“ostende mihi.”_

[Lindenmere….show me.]

The branches creaked as the wind grew stronger and began to blow in a new direction… west to where the sun slept. She jumped to her feet, startling the young deer, and sprinted through the trees, ducking under branches and leaping over fallen logs.

_Adam. Adam. Adam._

She came to an abrupt stop, her hooves sinking into the loam of the stream bank. She tilted her head and listened. Adam was close. _She knew_.

She trotted slower now, following the rushing water. Her hooves slipped on the smooth, wet stones but she did not fall.

All at once she saw him. He stared at her from across the stream. His eyes reflecting the bright light of the little machine he and Ronan carried. 

_Phone_. 

She knew something was wrong. Animal things like Adam had to close their eyes. Dream things like Opal didn’t have to do that. Dream things were better in many ways like that.

_It’s called blinking, kid. You could give it a try so you don’t look so fucking freaky._

He was not _blinking_. Did he forget? 

She raced up to him and threw her arms around his neck, _“Adam revenite! Revenite!”_

[Adam, come back! Come back!]

But Adam’s eyes stayed open and far away. 

Kerah said to hurt him. Opal did not want to hurt him. Adam belonged to Kerah, but he belonged to her too. Opal was torn. Maybe it was like when the cows – the animal cows, not the dream cows – gave birth. There was pain, and blood, but then there was another cow. Another cow to run in the field with. Sometimes animal pain brought good things to Opal.

Opal let go of Adam’s neck and sat back against the ground. 

She raised her right hoof and _kicked_. 

The hard keratin of her hoof connected with Adam’s cheek and he toppled over letting out an “ _oof_.”

Opal scrambled on top of him, accidentally kicking him a bit more as she tried to find his eyes. Adam blinked up at her, wincing in pain as he touched his bruised cheek.

Opal trilled in delight to see his eyes. His real eyes. His animal eyes.

She hugged him, _“Paenitet me!”_

[I’m sorry!]

Adam held Opal and smoothed the dirty, tangled hair out of her face, “It’s OK. How did you know to wake me? Is Ronan here…?” Adam looked around, hope written across his face.

_“Non hic. Latebras.”_

[Not here. Hiding.]

Opal watched Adam close his eyes. He said a word Opal wasn’t supposed to say. (She said it to Chainsaw sometimes, though. And the cows.)

_“Opal est nuntius!”_

[Opal is the messenger!]

Adam opened his eyes, “What’s the message, Opal?”

She took a deep breath. She had to say it right. These words were for Adam.

_“Pallium viridi.”_

Green Mantle.

_Greenmantle._


	4. Chapter 4

Adam climbed from the ground. 

_Pallium Viridi._

Greenmantle.

What was Ronan trying to tell him? Was he sending a warning about the dangerous people after him? Were they collectors like Greenmantle?

Or was it about Piper? The cave? The demon?

Or the church where they dreamed up the damning evidence? The dead doppelgänger?

Adam stared up at the sky – cloudless and star-filled – so unlike the fog-covered terrain of the dreamscape Opal had just quite _literally_ kicked him out of. He’d been completely unable to see anything, let alone able to sense or track Ronan. The sheer power emanating from that fog had choked him. Who the fuck was Bryde that he could do that? _What_ the fuck was he? 

If he couldn’t find Ronan by scrying, he would have to think like him. What would Ronan do once he knew that Adam was coming after him? Ronan knew Adam better than anyone. He knew that Adam would not give up looking. Not ever.

Of course.

 _Ronan would let himself be found._

Historically, Ronan’s first impulse was usually not the right one, and as they’d gotten older, even he had begun to recognize it. He would have realized by now that trying to keep Adam safe by leaving him behind would never work. Ronan would have accepted that it was futile to try to keep Adam away. 

And, Adam realized with dawning certainty, he would tell him exactly where to find him. 

Somewhere no one would expect. Not The Barns. Not Monmouth. Not Saint Agnes. Nowhere officially connected to them.

A place that held a stark memory for them both. A bloody envelope and a sociopathic Latin teacher. He let out a breath. He knew where Ronan would be.

As tentative relief flooded through him, Adam let himself take a moment to savor just how much Ronan was probably regretting sending those coded texts. If he’d just disappeared into the night, Adam would have had no way of finding him. He wondered if deep down Ronan had wanted to be found. Had known that it was safest to keep Adam away, but hadn’t been able to fully accept it. Adam knew it wasn’t a decision that would sit well in Ronan’s heart.

Adam didn’t want to think about Ronan truly leaving without a word.

When he finally found the idiot he had every intention of giving him shit for the way this whole thing went down. 

_So you didn’t want me to come after you… but you sent me coded texts and some fucking Harry Potter paper… and I’M the asshole for tracking you down?_

Opal clung to Adam’s leg like a barnacle and looked up at him expectantly.

Adam glanced down at her, ruffling her hair, and saw a flash of white by the stream out of the corner of his eye.

Oh, god. He was as dumb as his fucking boyfriend.

The paper.

Adam detached Opal and scooped up the paper. It was a bit wet and had streaks of mud on it, and a stray hoofprint, but it was intact. Adam pulled the pen from his pocket and flattened the paper against a tree.

**_Your daughter kicked me in the face. Was that your idea?_ **

Adam did not have to wait long for a response.

_**Parrish, you fucking asshole. YOU CANNOT SCRY BY YOUR DAMNED SELF. How many times do we need to cover this? You’re supposed to be the smart one, jackass.** _

Adam barked out a laugh.

_**Uh huh. Clearly. Want to tell me why you’re still speaking in code through Opal when we have the magical equivalent of snapchat?** _

Adam waited. And waited. 

**_Hey, for all I knew the damned paper blew away while you were scrying like a moron. Opal was back-up._ **

Adam bit back a smile. He totally fucking forgot. Adam decided to leave it alone.

_**So, Greenmantle? Their old farmhouse? Is that the plan?** _

Adam watched Ronan’s writing spill across the page.

_**Now someone’s using their big fucking brain. I’m leaving now. It should take me at least a couple hours. I’m not entirely sure where we are right now...** _

Adam began to write as soon as Ronan’s words had faded.

_**And Bryde is OK with this? With me coming with you guys? I still don’t trust him, Ronan.** _

Adam watched Ronan’s response appear.

_**I don’t know if I trust him either, but he’s all we’ve got. And if he wants me, then he gets you, I guess, since you won’t let me force a fucking survival instinct on you.** _

Adam grinned.

_**Glad you finally accepted that. I’m leaving for Greenmantle’s farm now.** _

_**Tamquam.** _

Ronan wrote the final words in giant block letters.

_**ALTER IDEM, YOU FUCKING NIGHTMARE.** _

**

Ronan had been right – it had taken a couple hours for him to figure out where he was and how to navigate to Greenmantle’s old farmhouse.

He hadn’t bothered to tell Bryde what he was doing, instead letting Hennessy be the messenger.

_Oh, delightful. I can tell the scary Wizard of Oz that you’ve run off to retrieve your scarecrow? Fucking great, Lynch._

He’d sent one last message to Adam through the paper letting him know that he was leaving his page with Hennessy so they would know how to find each other again.

As he landed in the field behind the deserted farmhouse he saw Adam emerge from the shadows on the back porch. He ran down the steps and threw himself into Ronan’s arms, wrapping his legs around his waist.

“I’m so fucking mad at you. Don’t ever pull this disappearing shit again,” Adam mumbled into Ronan’s shoulder.

Adam pulled his head back and kissed Ronan soundly. When they finally stopped to drag in heaving breaths, he continued, “I gave you one simple instruction. Be. Here. When. I. Get. Back.”

“I’m sorry,” Ronan’s voice was soft and sincere, and all the anxiety and stress and anger and fear drained out of Adam’s body. He was glad Ronan was still holding him or he knew he would have collapsed.

“I forgive you,” Adam sighed, exhaustion finally catching up with him. He unwound his legs from around Ronan’s hips. 

Ronan lowered Adam gently to the ground, but kept his arms around him, propping him up.

“Why does it seem we’re always doing something dangerously stupid when we’re here?” Adam asked, looking out across the fields.

“You’re the fucking mastermind, Parrish. I’m just your lackey,” Ronan pressed his lips into Adam’s good ear. 

“You owe me a new phone, by the way. I dropped mine and cracked the screen when you broke up with me.”

“I never broke up with you. I _would_ never break up with you. I _will_ never break up with you,” Ronan held Adam’s face in his hands and stared in his eyes, “I’m so fucking sorry for all of this.”

Adam hummed, “None of this is your fault. But no more John le Carré novels for you. That code was abysmal. An eight-year-old could have cracked it.”

“That code _worked_ ,” Ronan argued, pinching Adam’s side. “Too fucking well, clearly.”

“From now on, it’s you and me,” Adam said, wrapping his arms around Ronan’s neck. “You can’t leave me behind if you think it’s too dangerous. We’re in this together. We’ve dealt with worse. We’ll be OK.”

Ronan ran his thumb over Adam’s bruised cheek and kissed him softly, “We’ll be OK.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this provided a little bit of comfort/closure until we eventually get our Dreamer Trilogy happy ending (Do you hear me universe, HAPPY ENDING).
> 
> Things I googled in the course of writing this story:
> 
> A crap-ton of Latin.  
> How a nuclear reactor works.  
> What a goat's hoof is made of. (Extra bonus points to you if your immediate answer is, "Uhhh... goat.")


End file.
